This room

In my dark room. I'm not lonely; just deep in thought.

The subtle squeak as my rocking chair moves,
A blank stare through the window, in this room.

The lights are out; the candle light flickers,
My knees to my chest; my thoughts become dimmer.

The raging storm, ferociously quiet,
Sways the trees starting a riot.

My body's position is deathly still,
The windows rattle, sky illuminating, my skins chilled.

The rain becomes torrential,
The wind begins to whistle.

Everything becomes silent; outside shadows are prancing,
The candle light flame against the wall is dancing.

No movement, no sound just my inaudible breathing,
"A riot outside!" The wind is now screaming.

Author's Note

Leave it, please. :)

Reviews

[Shiningwolf]

This one kept me interested to say the least lol. Thumbs up!

[Tate Morgan]

I could see this as if it were happening to me and that is the benefit of a good write

[TheFemininePad]

Wow Rose this is very beautiful imagery. I think its very well written. It flows so smoothly, and the structure of the poem was rather unique. I think you did a great job here. I don't have any suggestions on how to improve it.

[Rose Masen]

Thank you both!! :)

[Angela]

Great parallel for what is happening both outside and in the being of the person!

[Rossen]

great contrast between the outer movement and the little candle.
the candle and trees conspire with dance.
drafty windows letting ellaments slip in.
good opening line too, "The subtle squeak as my rocking chair moves,
great finish, 100/100

Rossen